Where little maids sigh,
And undo the spell
Of the Witch o’ the Well.
Lallaby! Gallady!’
The next thing she heard was the Wise Woman telling her to rise up and move her wings, and Betty, nothing loth, lifted herself from the settle and found she was all air and lightness, like the Little Lady Soft Winds themselves, and could fly about the hut with the greatest ease; the feeling of flying was altogether delightful!
The Lady Soft Winds watched her flight with the deepest interest, and Prince Fire, who was sitting on the edge of the carved box, watched too; that he approved of her flying powers it was plain to see, for his bright eyes never left her wings.
‘What am I now?’ asked Betty at last, perching on a beam, and looking down sideways bird fashion on the Wise Woman.
‘You are a little grey thrush,’ said the Wise Woman, her withered face a big smile.
‘And now, little grey thrush, away to the east, where the witch’s house looms out dark and strong against the gold of the morning sky,’ said the Lady Soft Winds, ‘and fly up her terrible stairs and set your six little children free, as you did us.’
‘Yes; away to Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday,’ cried Little Prince Fire.